


Down the Narrow Sea

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brotp, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1943349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The genesis of my obsession with the Asha/Brienne BROTP.  Still some of the best dialogue I've written for them.</p>
<p>It's a deleted scene from the much longer Ballad of Catelyn & Brienne, but it stands on its own as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the Narrow Sea

The sun is setting behind the six longships as they quietly slip across the sea toward Kings Landing, and light the color of fireplums criscrosses the deck with shadows from the masts and rigging. Brienne finds that though it has been some years since she last sailed, that her feet are steady as ever on the deck, her knots as deft, and her hand as comfortable and firm on the tiller. She and Asha have been over the strategy to take the Red Keep half a hundred times; if they don’t know it front to back by now, they never will.

Asha perches herself on a barrel and lights her pipe. “So, tell me true. I know why I’m doing this; adventure and riches. But why are you?”

Brienne stares out at the pale beginnings of stars on the horizon, gently moving the ship’s tiller. She doesn’t answer.

“Come on, then,” Asha persists. “Is it really justice for the realm? Or is it to make your lady happy?” She looks at the back of Brienne’s head. “It’s alright either way, you know.”

Brienne rubs the back of her neck. “Can it be both?” she says finally.

Asha smiles knowingly. “Of course. I can’t blame you. Those red-haired girls from the North, they can fill a woman’s head with some wild shite.”

Brienne’s head snaps around and she looks at Asha, wondering if she’s understanding her correctly, or assuming too much.

Asha sees the puzzlement and defensiveness in her face. “Come on then, big woman. I saw you two say your farewells. And this?” she adds, tugging at Catelyn’s green silk, which is still knotted around the hilt of Brienne’s sword. “Your Lady Stark is not just your lady, she’s… _your_ _lady_ …” She leans on the words as if trying to knock them over. “…yes?” She takes a pull from her pipe and exhales. The winds shift and blow the smoke directly at Brienne’s face.

“Ugh, rancid,” Brienne grumbles, waving the smoke away. She adjusts the tiller to account for the shift in the wind. But she doesn’t answer.

Asha is grinning conspiratorially now. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, as much as it will ever be a secret,” she says. “I had one too, once, you know.”

Brienne lets go of the tiller and turns around, this time registering genuine surprise. “You what?”

Asha savors chewing on her pipe stem for a minute. “It’s true. I did. She was a wild little red-haired thing, good with a sword and bow, and she bent her knee to no man. In truth-” Her voice at this moment is as humble as Brienne has ever heard it. “-I was too tame for her. She called me ‘pretty princess.’ Me. Can you believe that?”

Brienne is gobsmacked. By all of it. “So, are you…?” She flounders. Even now, she has no word for what it means to share her life and bed with Catelyn.

“Am I what? Am I like you?” Asha supplies. “I don’t know. I don’t know how it is for you. I like cock as much as the next girl-” She notices a slight look of distaste flit across Brienne’s face. “-or the girl _after_ the next girl,” she amends, chuckling. “I was young. And she was… well, there’s never been another like her.” She gives a nostalgic sigh, and pulls from her pipe. “We fought together. We slept by fires under the stars. And she was a right good fuck, too.”

“That’ll do!” Brienne interrupts. “Heard quite enough, thank you.”

Asha is amused now, and begins poking at Brienne, her face lit up with mischief. “Come on, big woman. Don’t you ever fuck?”

“It’s not ‘fucking’. And I don’t need to discuss it with _you_ ,” Brienne answers, almost primly.

“Oooh, I see,” Asha hoots. “You don’t fuck. What then, do you spread rose petals every time you bed your lady?”

Brienne takes a breath, seeming to suck some words back that are almost about to come out of her mouth, then turns back to the tiller to hide the sheepish look that she knows is creeping onto her face. But she knows that her silence has given her away already.

“What, really?” Asha demands.

“Not every time,” Brienne finally says, embarrassed.

Asha is beside herself. “Oh bless me, you _are_ a proper knight for a proper lady like Catelyn Stark, aren’t you!” She can barely hang onto her pipe as she tries to keep from doubling over with laughter.

“That’s enough, wench,” Brienne snaps, testily working the tiller harder than necessary.

Asha takes a deep breath and quells her amusement, then claps Brienne on the back. “Alright, easy there, big woman, you’re going to flip my bloody ship.” She pulls out a small flask of rum and passes it to her. “Have a drink, will you?”

Brienne reluctantly takes a few sips from the flask and feels the rum burn its way down into her belly. Despite herself, she relaxes a bit. Asha has the good sense to shut up let the drink work its charms. At length, Brienne grumbles, “You’re a bloody pain in the ass, you know. You’d better be as good with that axe as you think you are.”

Asha smirks. “And why wouldn’t I be?”

Brienne leans back against the mainmast. “For starters, your armor’s got tits.”

“Well, so have I,” Asha replies, banging on her shapely breastplate with the flask before passing it back. “Why doesn’t yours? Haven’t you got tits, you poor thing?”

Brienne scowls. “Not on my bloody armor.”

“Well, you should,” Asha declares, blowing smoke at the stars. “This way they know they’re having their ass beaten into the dirt by a woman.”

Brienne looks at her, thinks about this a moment, and for the first time since they set sail, she cracks a smile.

“Oh, a smile, at last. Be careful, there. Don’t break your face,” Asha ribs her.

“I’ll break _your_ face.”

“Right.”

“I will.”

“Right, then.”

Another long silence settles. Asha considers her ally. “Would you marry her? If you could?”

Brienne hesitates, still not entirely trusting this brash, troublesome woman. But the few swigs of rum she’s had are making her bolder than normal. “If I could, yes,” she admits. She shakes her head. “But who am I to change the way that things are done?”

Asha grins crookedly. “I thought you were the Lord and Lady of Tarth.”

They drink.


End file.
